


Memories of Smoke

by RecluseWriter



Category: Library of Ruina (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Gen, Smoking, corpses mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:28:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28703658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RecluseWriter/pseuds/RecluseWriter
Summary: Yan assists Esther in completing a Prescript to which memories slip out.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Memories of Smoke

Smoke was the product of pipes, cigarettes, machines, and arsonists, none of which helped the already poor air quality. Most crematoriums only spilled smoke at the end of the week, likely leaving the corpses to rot till their burning. The possibility that they put the bodies on ice was slim, though some clinged to the idea. Pipes fell under the categories of weapons and another form drug usage. The smoke from pipes was used by a group of cannibals to burn the flesh of their victims or next meals. Random fires weren't necessarily common nor were they rare. Depending on the size and time it lasted, the more lives and homes were lost. And the things produced were sorrow and smoke. Cigarettes and cigars were of the most easily accessible and convenient forms of relaxation. Stick one in your mouth, smoke it and feel the tension in your body dissipate. Does it matter what they do to your body? Probably not to most as they were aware that they are more likely to die stepping out onto the street that years worth of smoking.

Coughing was a normal thing to occur when one’s airway is filled with dust, smoke, and similar substances. The more exposure to such things cause more damage to your body, much like seeing bloodied corpses and similar things only instead of physical damage, it's was psychological. What would kill you quicker was up for debate. 

It was an area where many of the residents were under Index protection. Everyone stayed in line and kept to the rules making a “calm” place. Yan had grown familiar with almost everyone of the residents. Their names, hobbies, occupations, etc. Some would offer to share a cup of tea with him. His answer was always no. Being in an unfamiliar place while it being on someone’s own playing field never led to anything good especially if the offeror had a strong hatred for the Syndicate protecting them. Never being in any of the residents’ homes didn’t mean he knew nothing of what the insides looked like. Curious won over his respect of not looking past people into their homes. Clean homes ranging to landfills of garbage. Even if Yan couldn’t see inside, he could still tell somewhat of what the home was like. If it reeked of mold and trash or if it smelled of flowers or nothing at all. A smell that wasn’t too common was smoke, in or around any of the buildings in the section. Hence his wonderance when the scent of smoke invaded his nose and lungs when he neared. It wasn't strong, but unexpected more than anything. Letting the smell guide him back behind the apartments. To be expected, a few homeless people laid, sleeping or dead. The most notable figures were the white cloaks standing against the wall. The tallest one was the familiar face of Esther. Something was hanging out of his mouth that Yan couldn’t make out from where he was. Walking closer, one of the Proselytes had picked up on Yan’s footsteps and gotten Esther’s attention. He pulled the thing from his mouth, then crossed his arms across his chest, allowing for Yan to get a clear view of the object in question. It was a cigarette, half of it missing.

"Good afternoon Messenger Yan."

"Same to you Esther. I never seen you smoke before, if you don't mind me pointing that out."

"The Prescript stated that I had too."

"Ah. What did the Prescript exactly say?"

"Acquire fifthteen packs of cigarettes and have every cigarette smoked by the end of the day.”

“How many have you gotten through?”

A slight tone of concern could be heard from Yan’s voice. 

“None. I was only able to acquire them only a little bit ago.”

“I see.”

Having a quick look at some of the Proselytes, he could see that they were holding the packs of cigarettes. Walking up to one, he took a pack and removed the wrapping. Esther said nothing and instead watched as Yan pulled out a cigarette, stuffing the pack in his pocket. 

“Do you have a lighter?”

“I do. Do you plan on smoking too, Messenger Yan?”

Yan gave a nod.

“The Prescript never dictated that you yourself had to smoke all of them, only that they had to be smoked.”

Esther pulled out the lighter from his pocket, handing it to Yan.

“That’s a fair assumption."

He stuck the cigarette back in his mouth, while Yan attempted to light his. Struggling to light it, Yan found the problem being with his gloves. After slipping one off, he was finally able too. He put himself against the wall, resting his sword against it as well. Smoke traveled through his throat, leaving a burning sensation. The reflex to cough was suppressing, allowing for Esther's to be heard loud and clear. It was a normal occurrence to cough if it was your first time smoking, at least from what Yan heard. Though, were they usually that violent? The two continued, Yan now on his second and Esther still on his first. Again, Esther coughed, less violent, but still having somewhat of a harshness to it. 

"Esther, wouldn't this be faster and easier to have the Proselytes to assist with the process?" 

"It would be. The Proselytes are doing enough by standing and waiting."

His tone seemed noticeable off, doubtfully from just one cigarette, not directly. The effects of a single cigarette weren’t likely to affect someone of Esther’s size and stature yet. 

“For things that are made of addictive chemicals, they are utterly horrible.”

Esther wasn’t wrong in the slightest. Chemical filled sticks that kill you from the inside out that were one of the most addictive things. Even those without addictive personalities get caught in the little bit of pleasure that cigarettes gave, just by trying it once. 

“Yeah….I heard the more one does smoke, it becomes less horrid.”

"I heard the same as well."

Esther finally finished his first, stomping the butt under his foot. From his pocket, he pulled a pack and pulled out another cigarette. Yan held out the lighter, to which Esther took, hand a bit hesitant. Similar to Yan, he struggled to work the lighter. It was far too small of a tool for someone who's hands were the size of bowling balls and the gloves likely didn't help either. Then, how did he light his first one? One of the Proselytes? If that was the case, why out just ask for their help?

"Esther, would you like help?"

"No. I watched how many times before to know how to be able to use a lighter."

"You've watched people work a lighter?"

"It was impossible for me not to watch when everyone around me was."

"When you were younger?"

"Correct."

A fire sparked, lighting the cigarette, ending the lighters use till either to inevitably need to use it again. No cough was followed from Esther’s drag of the cigarette, though from the corner of Yan’s eye, he watched him cover his mouth.

__________________________________

Five packs that were empty now had empty but stuffed in them. More then half had been smoked by Yan as Esther was slower with his. His coughing never got any better, still coughing with each cigarette. The Proselytes' occasional murmurs of concern grew more and more frequent. The time was not known to either of them, nonetheless Esther didn’t seem worried. If anything, he looked to be between a state of happy and in pain. His head was in his hand rubbing his temple, while his eye was perfectly calm. The headache he likely had was from the unfamiliar amount of drugs in his system, along with the tranquility in his eye. Yet, Yan only had a headache and burning in his throat and lungs. He never did any type of drug before this, so he didn’t have any sort of tolerance for it. With the only given information that Esther had seen people use lighters, going with the assumption that the lighters had been used to smoke, Yan had guessed that Esther had been around alot of smoking as a kid.

“Hey Esther.”

No reply. Yan glanced over to see Esther staring at nothing in particular in the distance. So focused that he had blocked all other things, or that the drugs were dulling his senses. Whatever the reason may be, Yan saw an opportunity. Quietly, Yan creeped over to an empty handed Proselyte and gently took their hand. 

“Could you lend a hand in helping us finish the Prescript?”

The Proselyte nodded. Yan luckily had the lighter, lighting a cigarette. He slipped the cigarette into their hand, making sure that they were holding it before removing his own hand. Without needing any more directions, the Proselyte joined the two in smoking. 

"Let me know when you need to take a break."

The Proselyte nodded. 

Turning his attention to Esther, who started having a coughing fit. Gently, he rubbed Esther's back, being the only common place to comfort Yan was able to access. Suddenly, he leaned against the wall and slid himself to the ground, Yan was quick to follow. His hands raced to cover his mouth, attempting to suppress his coughs though to no avail. Yan continued to comfort, not wanting to leave him alone at the moment. Slowly but surely, Esther's coughing fit calmed, but not fully. Though the coughing was getting better, Yan knew he was going to end up having another one given how he was handling it. Ideas swarmed his head, one being the most optimal, yet held some concern. Deciding to go through with his idea, he patted Esther's back before standing up. He walked up to a Proselyte holding some of the packs of cigarettes and patted their shoulder. 

"Would you mind following me?"

After a moment of hesitation, the Proselyte nodded. 

“For the rest of you, guard Proxy Esther. He’s still in the same place, except he is sitting. Understood?”

The rest of the Proselytes nodded, going closer and surrounding Esther. Now with the Proselytes in place, Yan and the other Proselyte head off to the front of the building. He whipped around the corner to almost run into somebody.

“Hey! Watch---oh Messenger Yan. I apologize. I didn’t see you.”

“It is alright, Mr. Teli. Though, may I ask a favor of you?”

“Of course.”

“Um...would you mind smoking a cigarette for me?”

“Sure. Hand it to me. I got a light of my own.”

Yan pulled out the last remaining cigarette on him, handed to Mr. Teli.

“Thank you. Pardon me, I must be on my way. Have a good day.”

Without waiting for a reply, Yan was off, Proselyte in tow. They walked down in front of the building stopping at Room 110. He knocked on the door, uncomfortably waiting for an answer. Loud yelling and laughing came from inside, adding to Yan’s already bad headache. The door opened fully allowing for everything inside to be seen.

“Hello Messenger Yan. Have another Prescript for me?”

“I do not. I was looking for someone to help me with a favor.”

“A favor? Does it happen to involve the packs of cigs your friend there has?”

“It does….”

“Well, as you can hear, I got some of my old gamling friends here throwing a party and we happen to run out of some packs. We wouldn’t mind taking some of those off your hands.”

“Really? Thank you. How many would you mind taking?”

“I’ll take the six your buddy has. Sound good?”

“Of course. Thank you again.”

Mr. Galbine collected the packs off the Proselyte. 

“Mr. Galbine, I’m sorry to ask something more, but could you spare any water?”

“Sure Mr. Messenger. You gave me and my friends free cigs, how could I not pay you back?”

“Thank you…..”

Mr. Galbine headed back into his apartment, Yan trying hard to watch what he was doing. It didn’t take long for him to return carrying a bottle of water, and handing it to Yan. 

“There you go. Now run along, you probably got somewhere to be.”

“Thank you again, Mr. Galbine.”

The door closed, leaving two standing there. Yan started back the way he came, Proselyte needing no command to follow. Mr. Galbine was someone that Yan always had an interest in. He was never nervous when talking to Yan and never cared what kind of Prescript he received. Mr. Galbine never seemed to have a care about anything. Part of the reason Yan chose him to ask, along with the fact he was the only person he knew in the complex smoked. Yan didn’t want to trust him, yet he now put Esther’s life in the hands and all could now do was have faith. The two rounded the corner and hurried over to the group. Alerted by the sound of footsteps, the Proselytes pulled out their swords with cigarettes in their mouths. 

“Proselytes, it is me, Messenger Yan.”

Recognizing the voice and processing his statement, the Proselytes sheathed their weapons. Curiosity tugged at him to ask where the Proselytes had gotten the lighter, but his attention was caught by Esther, more specifically his now ungloved hands. Bright red blood covered them with notable cuts, none of which looked fresh, worrying Yan as to what the source was. Shuffling past the Proselytes towards Esther, knelt down and carefully reached for his hand. Yan's fingers had only brushed up against his for Esther's hand to jerk back, receiving a glare to go along with it. He murmured under his breath, looking down at his hand. Yan retracted his hand, thinking for a moment before speaking, louder than normal. 

"Esther, could you speak louder? I couldn't understand what you said."

“I didn’t cut my hands.”

Barely any louder, Yan managed to understand what he said, though disturbed by his words and tone. That combination of words are never something Yan would expect to hear coming from Esther, let alone his overall tone. The tone itself sounded so meek and fearful. Why? He was somewhat high and clearly wasn’t able to process thoughts, but yet he felt Yan touch him, and quickly reacted. Surely that wasn’t normal. The question swam around in the back of his head, more focused on the source of the blood. 

“Then where is the blood coming from?”

He turned his head towards Yan and opened his mouth sticking out his tongue, which was bleeding. There was a cut along his tongue, same as how his teeth were. Yan opened the bottle of water and held it up for Esther, wanting to have him drink some to clear out the blood as to get a better look.

“Could you drink a little?”

With an unsure look, he grabbed the bottle, taking a quick sip, bits of blood getting into the bottle, tinting the rest of it pinkish. He handed the bottle back to which Yan put the cap on and rested against the wall. Not needing to be instructed, Esther opened his mouth again. There was only one wound bleeding, but a bunch of markings that looked old. Being old and faded, Yan couldn’t quite make out what they were from. The blood flowing from the wound was slowing. There was no swelling, giving some comfort that it wasn’t infected, though he would have to keep an eye on it. 

“It looks fine..”

Esther nodded and began rummaging through his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. Yan reached and grabbed the pack from him. Esther only glanced over and didn’t try to get it back, nor did he question why it was taken. One of the Proselytes had walked over and stomped their foot on the ground. Yan looked over and saw that they were holding out an empty pack and an unopened pack. He gratefully took both.

“Thank you. That should leave two more packs to finish. Would you and the other Proselytes finish the partial pack?”

The Proselyte nodded and Yan glanced over to the others who nodded as well. Yan handed them the partial pack and worked on opening the full pack. He lit one, causing his headache to get worse. Out of the corner of his eye, Yan saw Esther staring intently at him as if waiting for something. After a bit, the cigarette ran to its end, to which Yan butted it out on the ground. Still not looking fully at Esther, he became confused to having a small smile before pulling his knees up and resting his head on them. Now having the time to think, Yan brought forth the question that still lurked in his head. Esther’s quiet and fearful tone. Drugs usually make people more talkative, have slower reaction times, louder. Yet Esther didn’t act like any of that. It had to be linked to something, that was something Yan was sure of. Memory triggered from all the smoke in him seemed unlikely, but you could never write off any as impossible in the City. Thinking and thinking with his increasingly worsen headache as he filled his lungs with smoke for the sake of a piece of paper. Time passed quickly and Yan worked his way through the pack. Feeling slightly giddy and light headed, Yan attempted to stand. He stopped halfway, realizing that his cloak was being held down. That thing being Esther who at some point moved closer and managed to sit on his cloak. He started to tug but to no avail. 

"Esther, could you please move? You're sitting on my cloak."

No response except for calm breathing. Upon closer inspection, Yan realized that he had fallen asleep. Instead of fighting to free his cloak, he simply slipped it off, partially covering Esther with it. Now being able to stand, walked over to the Proselytes, one of was holding an empty pack of cigarettes. They showed it to Yan. 

“Ah thank you. That should be the last one…... Hopefully the other six packs get taken care of…..”

Realizing that the second sentence was audible, Yan tried to brush off what he had said. There was no need to worry them. There were many in Mr. Galbine’s, surely there was nothing to worry about. No need to worry….

“Messenger Yan?”

Yan turned back to see Esther awake and slowly standing up, holding Yan’s cloak. 

“Hello Esther. How was your nap?”

“I fell asleep? Why didn’t you wake me? The Prescript needs to be complete, there's no time to sleep.” 

“The Prescript was completed before you fallen asleep. You were coughing alot and had a headache. I recommend you get some rest. You said you didn’t need any and shortly after you fell asleep. Don’t you remember?” 

“I don't remember any of that.”

“Truly? You weren’t feeling well so I’m not that surprised.” 

“As long as the Prescript is complete. Would you like your cloak back?”

“Ah yes. Thank you.”

Esther put on Yan’s cloak, straightening it out for him. Yan grabbed his sword from the wall, and the gloves and bottle of water that had been lying on the ground. Quickly slipping on his, Yan handed Esther his set, to which he slipped on and thanked him.

"Thank you Messenger Yan for helping with the Prescript and giving me back my gloves back. Sorry to keep you from your duties. Now, the Proselytes and I should be on our way. Have a good day."

Esther walked Yan, gathering the Proselytes only to have Yan follow close by his side.

"I have no Prescripts to deliver at the moment. If you don’t mind, I would like to accompany you on your patrol.”

Yan’s voice was kind of shaky, something that had been picked up by Esther, who didn’t question it. 

“Of course.”

The two proceeded the Proselytes in tow. Yan’s grip on the water bottle was tightening and loosening similar to how one would use a stress ball. 

“Messenger Yan.”

“Yes Esther?”

“You could squeeze my hand if you like.” 

“Why would I need to do that?”

“You’re stressed and squeezing things usually help similar to a stress ball.”

“You aren’t wrong….”

Hesitantly, Yan did what he asked and took to his advice. Esther also took the water bottle, slowly handing it to the Proselyte. 

“Does that help?”

Yan gave a nod.

“Thank you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed!  
> When a simple idea spirals out of control: this fic
> 
> On a side note: If you ever want to ask me about headcanons and the sort involving Library of Ruina, feel free to ask. I don't mind.


End file.
